Switching Spots
by Morning Dew
Summary: FINISHED! Spot Conlon has fallen gravely ill and faces the threat of having his territory invaded by newsies from Staten Island. But what if the Brooklyn Leader has someone stand in for him? And what if that someone is his twin sister! PLEASE R/R!
1. Spot's Double

DISCLAIMER: None of the characters in the following story belong to me except for Honey and Flame, so please do not sue me because you will get nothing but the 67 cents in my pocket.  
  
Switching Spots  
  
Honey sighed and rested her face in her hands as she sat on the bedside of Spot Conlon's bunk. He was the fearless leader of Brooklyn, the King of New York. Most importantly, he was her brother. Honey had moved back to Brooklyn to find him when their mother had died of pneumonia, an illness that now seemed to be striking down her twin sibling right before her eyes. Spot had runaway from home at age 12 because of their abusive stepfather who abandoned Honey and her mother a month later.  
  
"Spot, ya gotta wake up! Yer the only family I'se got." As a tear journeyed down her smooth cheeks, she stroked her brother's hair.  
  
The Brooklyn leader looked up at his twin and smiled. They looked so much alike it scared him. "Don't worry, nuthin knocks down Spot Conlon."  
  
Honey smiled halfheartedly, knowing that the boy was slowly dying even though he tried to hide it. At the most, he only had a month or two left. And to make matters worse, goons from Staten Island were threatening to take over the Brooklyn territory. If they knew that Spot was at his weakest state, they would seize the opportunity to oppress immediately. Just then, Jack Kelly walked into the room. He was the only Manhattan newsie Honey was acquainted with as she had only been a newsie for a month and had mostly stayed secluded in the Brooklyn Lodging House.  
  
"Heya Jacky-boy," Spot said weakly as he tried to sit up on his elbows. The attempt failed and he fell back onto his bed, clearly angered.  
  
"Ah, Spot, stop pushin it. Ya gonna kill yerself!" Jack hurried over to his friend and frowned. The Brooklyn Leader did not seem to be getting better at all.  
  
"Listen Jack, I'se gotta problem. Me boids been tellin me all sorta things about these joiks from Staten Island. Apparently, these scabs intend on seizing me turf. Of coise, I'se aint gonna let that happen, but I can't exactly strut around New Yawk tellin people not tah mess wid Brooklyn. I'se kinda needs someone tah stand in fer me."  
  
"Well how about Dice? He's been yer right hand man ever since youse became the leadah around heah."  
  
Spot thought about it and then shook his head. "Nah, he aint all that good a fightah. Ya see, he's like the thinker of the lot but isn't good at defendin himself."  
  
"Alright. How about.wait! Youse could make it look like ya aint even sick. I mean, if ya make appearances everywhere, no one would be the wiser!" A wide grin spread across Jack's face.  
  
"No shit, but unfortunately, I'se kinda bed-ridden at the moment!" Jack pointed at Honey and nodded his head with the same mischievous grin.  
  
Honey was lost and looked from the Manhattan leader to her brother with wide eyes. "What is youse suggestin," she asked confused.  
  
Spot's eyes narrowed. "Youse gotta be kiddin! Ya actually think I'se gonna let me sistah impersonate me!? There's quite a few ways youse can tell she's a goil!"  
  
"Nuthin baggy shoits can't fix," Jack laughed. He could just imagine all the fun he was going to have with this scheme. Spot rested his head onto his pillow and thought about it. Though a great many cons outweighed the pros, it seemed like the only reasonable answer to his problem. To make people think he was indeed still in good health. His sister would need much training though. But Jack would take care of that. Then a devilish smirk crossed the Brooklyn Leader's face.  
  
"Jacky, it's up tah youse to transform Honey Conlon into the one and only King of New Yawk."  
  
Jack rolled his eyes at the bragging but was glad to hear Spot agree with the unusual idea. Honey's jaw dropped open. They wanted her to act like the leader of New York's toughest newsies for who knew how long!? "Don't worry, Honey," Jack assured her. "I'se gonna teach ya everything."  
  
"That's what I'se afraid of."  
  
* * * * * *  
  
"Heya, Honey," a Brooklyn newsie called out. "Yer hair is comin from under yer hat!"  
  
Honey groaned as she snatched Spot' hat from atop her head and held it between her knees. Then for the fourth time that morning, she tried to jumble her thick blonde hair flat enough so that the hat would fit smoothly over it. This time, it worked out well for her, but she knew she would have to fix it at least twice more throughout the day. Jack came into the Brooklyn lodging house then.  
  
"Spotty, dear, where is youse?" Honey glared at him as she shuffled over to him with slouched shoulders.  
  
"Right heah, Jacky-Boy," she spat.  
  
The Manhattan leader shook his head and sighed. "What kinda walk was that? His high and mighty doesn't walk as if he's some zombie. Youse gotta throw some pride into that stride." Then Jack pulled her aside and told her to watch how he impersonated Spot. He started at one end of the room and then walked suavely, almost machine like, with a dose of nonchalance. His face was monotonous but still held the air of power. His shoulders were back and his chin not too high so that he seemed snobby but not low either so that he looked like a coward. "Youse got that?"  
  
Honey scratched her ear irritably. "Jack, this is stupid. No one's gonna be lookin at the way I walk."  
  
"That's where youse is wrong, Conlon. Every goil's eye is gonna be on youse, watchin yer every move. On top of that, yer enemies measure ya up by the way youse present yerself." The girl rolled her eyes and nodded. She went to the end of the room and then walked exactly as Jack had demonstrated.  
  
"Poifect! I hope youse is a quick learner at everything. Next we sell papes." He started to make his way to the door when he realized Honey wasn't following him. "What's the matter?"  
  
"I'se never sold papes before. Can't we just skip that part?"  
  
Jack looked at her incredously. "Are ya crazy? Sellin papes is what makes a newsie! Don't worry, goil, I'se gonna teach ya all I know."  
  
"That shouldn't take too long then, huh Jack?" a newsie called out. The whole room burst into laughter and Jack smiled sardonically at them all.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Heya Spot!" Honey froze in her tracks but Jack casually turned to see who had called the name. It was Flame, the leader of the Bronx newsies, and Jack whispered that into Honey's ear quickly.  
  
"Heya Flame," Honey said in her best Spot voice, but it still came out high-pitched. She bit her lip at the mistake.  
  
Flame arched his eyebrows but didn't think anything more of it. "So Spot, youse ready fer our little slingshot contest today?"  
  
Jack's eyes went wide. "That was today?"  
  
The other youth nodded. "Yea, don't back out on us now, Brooklyn."  
  
Honey just stared at him. He was rather handsome. His long black hair reached to chin length and occasionally flew into his eyes as the wind blew. His eyes were dark, and held some mysteriousness about them. He was well built too and stood a few inches taller than her. She didn't realize she was staring until Flame began waving his hand in front of her face.  
  
"Conlon, Conlon," he was saying repeatedly. "Youse okay?"  
  
Jack stood in. "Ah, Flame, Spot's kinda been losin it lately. He just came outta this sickness he had fer a month. Can't ya give him another day until the contest?"  
  
Flame groaned. "Fine, but youse better not play any more games like this again, Conlon." He held Honey's gaze a moment longer until she looked down at her feet. Did he just stare down the fearless leader of Brooklyn? Man, Spot must really be outta his mind. I never saw him so vulnerable. He tried to examine Honey's face from where he stood. There was something wrong here, what was it? But someone called his name then and he had to turn away to walk over to them. When he was out of hearing distance, Honey put her face in her hands.  
  
"God, I was a complete idiot! This is so stupid, I quit!"  
  
"Youse aint quitting cuz Spot still needs yer help. C'mon, it wasn't that bad." He thought about what had just happened in his head. "Well, it did kinda look as if youse were checkin him out. I don't think that fits too well on Spot's reputation."  
  
Honey let herself laugh, but inside she was wondering if she would ever have a chance with Flame if she kept impersonating her brother like this.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"I really aint shoah how youse supposed tah use a slingshot cuz we boys in Manhattan don't have any, but it looks simple enough." He pulled a shooter back on the rubber launcher of the slingshot he held and released. The shooter zoomed by swiftly and broke a beer bottle sitting on one of the piers of the docks.  
  
"Lucky shot," Honey grumbled. She tried her own hand but only succeeded in sending her shooter falling onto her shoes. "I hate this! This is so stupid!"  
  
"Ya know, from now on, I'se gonna count how many times you say that this is stupid. Listen, slingshot skills don't come overnight. How bout we try a game of poker now?" Honey reluctantly agreed and followed him back to the Brooklyn lodging house where Jack dealt a game for himself, Honey, and three other newsies. Honey picked her cards up and stared at them.  
  
"So I'se got two kings, a three, a joker, and a nine. What now?"  
  
The other four players rolled their eyes. "Yer not supposed tah tell the other people what youse gets," one of them said.  
  
"Oh." And so Honey slowly learned the game of poker, even though it took two hours and lots of patience on Jack's part.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Spot stirred in his bed and finally opened his eyes. A shady figure was kneeling before his bed. He waited until his vision cleared and when he saw who it was, he yelled out startled. A complete duplicate of himself! He relaxed after a few seconds, realizing it was his own sister.  
  
"Spot, I'se sorry," she said softly, still kneeling.  
  
"It's all right. Just don't do it again, huh?" He smiled at her and turned on his side to face her. "So, youse enjoying being me?"  
  
"No!" she exclaimed, and she went on to describe how terrible the day's events had been. She ended up shedding tears and Spot had to hold her close to make her feel better. "I'se just afraid that I'se gonna mess things up fer youse."  
  
"Don't worry about it, hun. I shouldn't have pulled ya into this. I'll tell Jack to call the whole thing off."  
  
Honey shook her head. "No, I'se can do it. It's just hard at times, but I know I can do it."  
  
* * * * *  
  
It was Friday night at Medda's and the place was jam packed with newsies from all over New York. Honey tried to smile whenever a girl would greet her and then burst into giggles but the thought that she might have to flirt with newsies of her same sex utterly appalled her. She planned to stay close to the poker tables, where the girls rarely hung out. Just then, a certain newsie caught her eye. It was Flame! He was getting a glass of water at the bar stand across from her and she rushed over to him, forgetting she was supposed to be Spot. When she reached him, she gave him a big smile and squeaked a girlish "hi".  
  
Flame stared at her stunned. "Uh, Spot, youse still feelin sick?"  
  
Honey's eyes went wide. "Oh, uhm, oh!" She crossed her arms nervously. "Heh, I'se feelin a bit lightheaded yeah." She put her hands on her hips then. "Well, I'se gonna play some poker. Buh-bye" She bit her lip again but flashed Flame a sweet smile before running off to the other side of the room.  
  
"Deal me in," Honey said in her best Spot voice yet as she sat down at a poker table. She received her five cards and picked them. "Oh yay!" she exclaimed happily.  
  
The other newsies playing looked at her as if she were on fire. "What's been up wid Spot lately?" one of the newsies whispered into another's ear.  
  
Honey heard the comment and tried to get back into her high and mighty stature. "Heya, this one scab spilled his drink all over me on my way heah. I soaked him good. Gave the bum a nice shiner." The others laughed nervously. This isn't going too well. She rolled her eyes. She would have to engage in 'guy talk'. While the dealer was dealing another game, Honey motioned to a girl standing a few tables away from them. "Heya fellas, I don't think I'se seen a better looking goil than the one over there."  
  
The newsies followed his gaze and then nodded with grins. When they were in the middle of a game, one of the newsies exclaimed, "Hey Spot, that goil youse were checkin out earlier is comin over heah. And from the looks of it, I think she wants tah be more than friends wid youse."  
  
Honey tried to smirk the way Spot always did when he was getting smug, but her expression became more panicked. Before she could do anything, the girl had sat on her lap flirtatiously. "Heya Spot, me friends been talking a lot about youse. Said you were quite the charmer. I wanted tah see fer meself." She leaned in to kiss the would-be Brooklyn leader, but Honey scooted her chair back suddenly and jumped to her feet, causing the other girl to fall hard to the floor. Honey held her hat close to her head and dashed across Irving Hall, looking for Jack.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Slingshot Contest. The two words terrified Honey. She could barely throw a stone ten feet away from her with her own hands; imagine the damage she could do to Spot's reputation with a slingshot. She shifted her weight from one foot to the next as her wide eyes measured up Flame's ability with a slingshot. He's good, she said to herself. Really good! She gulped down hard and looked behind her to where Jack was standing. The Manhattan leader nodded at her for encouragement but it didn't help.  
  
"Yer turn, Conlon." Flame stepped back and waved for Honey to shoot at one of the beer bottles set up on a far off pier of the Brooklyn docks. Honey nodded monotonously and cast a glance at the Brooklyn lodging house. Spot's bed was set up so that he could watch the whole contest from his room, but more so that he could take part in the contest without anyone's knowing. He would launch his shooter simultaneously with Honey's, both aimed at the same bottle, and no one would be the wiser when the bottle was successfully shattered. Honey made her movements dramatic so that her brother would see her. She pulled back the launcher of her slingshot and aimed for the first bottle set up on the right pier. As soon as she let go, she could just barely hear Spot's slingshot snap as well. Since the piers were so far, the shooter wasn't visible after a while, but the broken bottle was enough to show that the target was hit dead on.  
  
Flame nodded. "Not bad, Conlon. Considerin youse been feelin under the weather lately." Then he stepped back up to shoot his next beer bottle and the process continued until the game had ended and both Brooklyn and the Bronx were tied.  
  
"Good job, Flame," Honey said with a smile as she outstretched a hand to shake with the newsie. She was only met with a confused look.  
  
"Uhm, yea. Listen, we'se havin a big poker game in the Bronx next Friday. Ya know Brooklyn is always welcome tah come. Oh, and Spot? Would ya mind sellin papes wid me tomorrow? We'se gotta talk business; seems like Staten Island is startin tah threaten the lesser boroughs."  
  
Honey pursed her lips, much like her brother would do when he was annoyed. "Shoah." Then Flame and his newsies left and she was alone on the docks with Jack. They entered the lodging house to see how Spot was doing. Much to their surprise, he was lying still in his bed, breaking out into a cold sweat. Honey ran to her brother's side in a panic.  
  
"Spot! Oh my god, Jack, what's wrong wid him?!"  
  
"I don't know. Spot! Spot!" He shook the slender newsie rigorously but Spot would not wake up from his dazed state. "Honey, get a pail of cold water from the washroom." The girl ran out of the room and returned less than a minute later carrying what Jack had asked for. Jack took the pail and positioned it just above Spot's face. Then suddenly, he tipped the pail and let the icy water pour out onto the Brooklyn leader's face. Spot woke with a start gasping for air.  
  
Honey wrapped her arms around his neck. "Spot! I thought youse were..." She paused and looked at him with solemn eyes.  
  
"Dead?" Spot ran his fingers through his soaking wet hair and groaned. "I don't know, Jacky-boy. I feel like I'se gonna slip into a coma er sumthin any minute. Things aint goin too well. I'se always dizzy and always scorchin hot. I needs a doctor."  
  
Jack sighed. "I can ask the boys back in Manhattan tah pitch in a few coins tah raise money fer a doctor tah see youse."  
  
"Nah, no one can know I'se sick."  
  
Honey fumed. "Spot! Yer gonna kill yerself eventually. Forget about yer reputation! Ya need tah see a doctor as soon as possible!"  
  
"I don't want nobody raisin charity fer me," Spot replied simply.  
  
Jack shook his head. "I don't care what ya say, Spot. Manhattan aint gonna tell anyone that youse is sick. As a matter of fact, I won't even tell them about the whole scheme of Honey impersonatin youse. I'se just gonna ask fer simple donations 'cause his high and mighty is comin down wid a bad cold."  
  
"Fine," Spot muttered. "As long as nobody knows I'se in bed while me sistah is roamin around as me."  
  
More to come. Please Review!!! I live off of reviews! Thank you, thank you!!! 


	2. Youse on Drugs?

DISCLAIMER: The Newsies do not belong to me save for Honey and Flame. So puh-lease don't sue me because you won't get very much. Muah ha ha!  
  
Switching Spots  
  
Honey's mind was full of rampant thoughts as she and Flame were selling papers the next day around Brooklyn. She was supposed to be listening to his talk about Staten Island goons and their intent to persuade Queens in joining the invasion of Brooklyn, but she could only think about how intoxicating Flame's voice was when he spoke of something that concerned him. She did not want to admit it, but the simple crush she had on him was gradually growing. Afraid of what she might do or say, she kept her eyes on the sights in front of them and only looked at him if necessary.  
  
"Anyways, me boys are willin tah come tah Brooklyn's aid if youse need it. Wid Manhattan at our side, we should be able tah take out the bums easily. They's real brutal though. I sent one of me messengers tah Staten's leadah, and he sent the kid back with a bad shinah."  
  
Honey nodded. "We'll see how bad they wanna fight soon enough." They turned a corner then and a skinny puppy caught their eyes. "Oh my god!" Honey exclaimed. "That dog must be starvin! Poor thing, and he's so cute too!" She ran up to the puppy and kneeled down beside it before cradling it in her arms. "Aww, poor baby. I'se gonna get ya some food, don't worry."  
  
Flame looked at the Brooklyn leader with much surprise. He never knew Spot had such a mushy side to him. "Uh, Conlon? Youse don't know where that mutt's been. 'Sides, we'se gots papes tah sell. Just leave it there and let's go."  
  
"Leave it heah? Are ya crazy? I'se aint gonna let such an adorable puppy die on the streets just cause I'se gots papes tah sell." Her eyes glared at his lack of sensitivity, forgetting for the moment that Spot probably would not do something like this, at least not in front of people who held him in high respect. "I'se gonna take him wid us and buy him a scrap of meat tah eat."  
  
"Yer takin him wid us? He can barely walk!"  
  
Honey grinned. "Then I'se gonna have tah hold him in me arms." She cuddled the puppy and rose to her feet, grabbing her papers from the ground in the process. Flame looked disgusted, but said nothing more. Something was definitely wrong with Spot these days.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"All right everybody, shut up and listen. This bit of news concerns Spot. He's been kinda sick lately and needs tah see a doctor real bad. Problem is, Brooklyn aint got enough money tah pay fer one, even when they pulled their last pennies together. So, I'se askin ya if youse can spare yer money fer jist one day so that we'se can help Spot out." Jack looked into each of his newsies' faces as he spoke to them in the main room of the Manhattan Lodging House. He knew they would agree to helping out, even if it meant going hungry for a day. Though Spot was rather irritable at times with his arrogant ways, they knew he was one of the coolest guys around with a great personality.  
  
"Heya Jack," Race said from a chair upon which he sat. "I'se hoid a few rumors concernin our infamous Spot. People been sayin he's been actin weird lately. Ya think he's on drugs? Ya know, it might explain why he's sick."  
  
"Yea," Blink threw in, "as a mattah of fact, he rejected this goil the other night at Medda's. As soon as the goil sat down on his lap, he threw her off as if she had a disease er sumthin. And the weird thing is, she was on of the most prettiest goils there. Since when does Spot resist the chance tah take someone home wid him?"  
  
Crutchy nodded. "Some boys from the Bronx said that Spot turned down a slingshot contest fer another day. I think that's the foist time in history he's done that."  
  
A loud commotion erupted then between the Manhattan newsies as they shared gossip they had heard about the Brooklyn leader. No one could explain his unusual behavior but everyone had a theory that explained what the possible cause could be.  
  
"Shut up!" Jack yelled impatiently, and he waited until all were once again silent before continuing. "Spot aint on drugs, okay? He's just been extremely sick and is kinda losin it. I tell him tah stay inside and stop goin tah parties, but he aint listenin tah me. He's only makin his condition worse. Now is youse gonna keep yakkin like goils, are ya gonna help raise money tah help him."  
  
Race took his cigar out of his mouth and fished inside the pocket of his vest before taking out seven cents-the entirety of his capital that day. He walked over to Jack and dropped the change into a small, wooden box Jack had placed on a table before him. It kind of resembled the charity boxes often found in churches. "Of coise we'se is gonna help, Jack. Spot is like a brother tah some of us." One by one, each newsie followed Race's lead and dropped whatever money they could into the same box.  
  
* * * * *  
  
That night, Honey looked at herself in the mirror that hung in Spot's room as the Brooklyn leader soundly slept. The puppy she had found during the day was snuggled up in a corner of the room with a thick blanket thrown over its body. She was sure that after a few meals, the animal would return to being lively like a puppy should be. Honey took a strand of her hair in her finger and thought about how much she and Spot resembled each other. Of course, they were twins, but often when a brother and sister were the twins in question, their similarities were not as drastic. The only difference between Spot and Honey was that the sister's nose was slimmer and her face a bit longer. She was glad she at least had some sign of femininity in her.  
  
She looked back at Spot and sighed. His breathing was heavy, as if it was now difficult for him to do so. His forehead was also beaded with sweat. Time was running out. If they did not get a doctor for him by the end of this week, he would definitely die. She hated to imagine her last family member embracing death, but she had to face reality. Her mother had been like this during her last days. It was only a matter of time before Spot would meet her same fate.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Jack and Honey walked to Bronx the next day to get details about Staten Island's progress from Flame. "We'se collected two dollars and thirty-three cents yesterday. Everybody gave what they could. That should be enough tah pay fer a little exam, right?"  
  
Honey smiled. "Yea, I guess so! That's great! And we'se still got the three dollars from Brooklyn. I'se shoah a doctor would woik out some kinda deal fer us." Soon enough, they were in the Bronx territory and nearing the Bronx lodging house. Flame was sitting outside with his newsies, practicing with their slingshots when he saw the two other leaders heading his way.  
  
"Heya fellahs!" he called out. He met them halfway to the front door and spit shook with both of them, noticing Spot tense when their hands touched. He eyed the Brooklyn leader in confusion but Jack turned his attention to other things.  
  
"So Flame, what's the deal?"  
  
"Queens turned down Staten Island's offer but got a soakin in return. Their leadah is in kinda bad condition now and they's want us tah send some of our boys down there tah make shoah no one tries anything. Alotta fights have been breakin out lately." He stopped short, staring at Spot who was picking nearby flowers with a small smile.  
  
Jack caught his gaze and followed it, and then shook his head with a hesitant smile. "Ah, don't mind him. He's uh, he's.heh, well, ya know Spot's odd at times."  
  
Honey picked one last flower and then returned to the two young men. "These are pretty, Flame. Did youse plant them or were they already heah when youse became leadah?"  
  
"Conlon, youse on drugs?"  
  
"Huh?" Honey cursed when she realized what she was doing, but she quickly covered it up. "Cause I like flowers, I'se automatically classified as a drug addict? Goodness! You boys shoah have a lot tah learn about the woild. Can't a guy have a sensitive side? I think it would be sweet if youse had planted them, Flame." She obviously had done a bad job.  
  
Flame arched an eyebrow. "Sweet?"  
  
"Spot, youse feelin all right?" Jack said quickly pulling the Brooklyn leader away with him. "I think ya need yer medication."  
  
Honey broke free from his grasp, not willing to leave Flame's presence so quickly. She thought of what to do. Then she threw the flowers to the ground and laughed hysterically. "Youse actually thought I'se was serious?! That was so funny! The expressions on yer faces!" She dropped to her knees and laughed harder than ever, even though it was just an act. It seemed as if the others were buying it because then Flame grinned and started to laugh too.  
  
"Conlon, yer an idiot. Let's go inside so youse can talk wid the messenger of mines who Staten Island soaked. He can give ya more information." As they followed after Flame, Jack glared at Honey and mouthed to her that she had better be careful. Upon entering the lodging house, they saw a group of newsies engaged in fistfights. Honey and Jack gave Flame a confused look.  
  
"Helps keep the peace," the Bronx leader said. "They's have their own arguments and instead of getting all of New Yawk involved, they just duke it out between themselves."  
  
Honey put her hands on her hips and fumed. "This is incredible!" Her voice came out almost as a yell and all the fighting newsies stopped suddenly to look at who had said that. "We'se practically havin a war heah between newsies of all kinds of boroughs fer no reason at all! Instead of gettin along and sharin powers, Staten Island wants tah dominate. People is gettin soaked and some of yer boys is comin home wid shinahs. And rather than findin a way tah stops it, heah youse are, killin each other fer stupid reasons!"  
  
She walked over to one of the taller newsies who had been fighting and glared at him. "Fer example, what were youse two arguin over?"  
  
"Well, this bum stole one of me cigarettes."  
  
"So? Don't ya know the meanin of sharin?" She walked over to another pair who had been fighting. "What's yer excuse?"  
  
The newsie looked at the Brooklyn leader and then down at his shoes. "He cheated while we'se were playin marbles."  
  
"Now cheatin aint nice I'll admit, but it aint no reason tah give somebody a black eye! Youse guys is gonna have tah obtain some morals!"  
  
One newsie who had been listening to Spot talk this whole time stepped towards him with a sarcastic smile. "So youse is the infamous Spot Conlon, huh?"  
  
"What's it tah youse?" Honey spat.  
  
"I don't know. I just never thought that his high and mighty was such a pansy." The entire room went silent and all eyes were on the Brooklyn leader to see what would happen next. Much to everyone's astonishment, Spot burst into tears.  
  
"So I see how it is! I'se just tryin tah help youse out and ya insult me! Well I'se sorry I'se tryin tah rid youse of the street rat image. I guess it suits you more." Then with her hands in her face, Honey ran out of the lodging house to the streets outside.  
  
Flame shifted from one foot to another. That was it. He was officially scared. But the tension in the room somewhat broke when a newsie came forward an asked a question.  
  
"Does anyone know wheah we'se can find the nearest asylum?"  
  
More to come. Please Review!!! I live for reviews!!! I Love You All!!! 


	3. Ya Did What!?

DISCLAIMER: The Newsies do not belong to me save for Honey and Flame. So puh-lease don't sue me because you won't get very much. Muah ha ha!  
  
Switching Spots  
  
"Ya did what?" Spot sat up in his bed with his back leaned against the headboard, as he looked at his twin sister incredously.  
  
"They's were fightin like junkyard dogs and it was so terrible! I mean, how could Flame let them do sumthin like that, ya know what I'se sayin? So I had tah stop it. They's would only listen tah someone as respected as youse so I took my chances." Honey sat on the corner of Spot's bed, trying to avoid his angry glare. Running out of the Bronx lodging house in tears might have not been the best thing to do at the moment, but she had not known what to say to that rude newsie!  
  
"Personally, I thinks what they's were doing is healthy. I mean, ya rather they take their fights tah the streets wheah the bulls will be watchin fer them?" The Brooklyn leader crossed his arms and sighed. Honey was completely destroying a reputation he had worked so hard to build up. Maybe he should call the whole thing off. "This really aint doing me no good, goil. I'se gots people thinking I'se on drugs and all. It's terrible! So I'se gunna let ya go."  
  
Honey gasped. "Yer puttin me out on the streets?!"  
  
"What? No! I didn't mean lettin ya go like that. I mean youse aint got tah pretend tah be me anymore. If Staten Island's gunna take me borough, let 'em take it. I'se don't care. Honey, I can barely walk! What am I gunna do when they's come heah? Throw me cane at their heads?"  
  
"But yer newsies will fight fer ya! And Manhattan and the Bronx gots our backs. Don't give in now, Spot!" She was on the verge of tears. From all the stories she had heard about her brother, none of them ever spoke of him giving up. Spot Conlon was not a quitter! What was he thinking? It must be the illness, she thought. He knows he's nearin his end and he's too sick tah do sumthin about it. She opened her mouth to say something but realized that Spot had fallen asleep in all his weakness.  
  
"I'se aint givin up on youse just yet, Spot!" she declared as she rose to her feet. "I love ya way too much tah be separated from youse again."  
  
* * * * *  
  
When Honey arrived at the halfway point of the Brooklyn Bridge where she and Jack met nowadays, she noticed that the Manhattan leader did not appear to be in his usual upbeat mood.  
  
"Jacky, what's wrong? Ya look like someone did ya wrong"  
  
Jack pulled back his cowboy hat and leaned against one of the bridge rails with a frown. He did not know how to break the news to the girl. "Well, I'se gots good news and bad news. It'll only make sense if I'se tell ya the good news foist this time. Race and me convinced this one doctor tah see Spot wid the small amount of money we'se had. Bad news is, when I went tah get the money outta the small bow we'se had collected it in, it was gone."  
  
"What!?!?!?"  
  
"I kept it under me bed just fer safety reasons, not because I thought one of me own newsies would steal it though. We'se had a few visitors the past few months and I wanted tah keep the money in a secret place just in case they came back since I'se don't know them real well."  
  
Honey took Spot's hat off her head and let her long, golden hair jumble past her shoulders. "I'se don't understand. If the visitors didn't know wheah the money was, how could they have stolen it?"  
  
"There's a problem though," Jack said, facing her. "We'se haven't had any visitors fer a week now, so it had tah be someone who's a permanent resident at the lodging house. I jist don't get why someone would steal Spot's money! If they needed some extra cash, they's could've asked me to spot them a bit, ya know? I'se always lettin people borrow money!"  
  
"If I'se ever finds the person who did it, I'd soak 'em so bad!" Honey noticed some newsies far off selling papers and decided she had better return to impersonating Spot before word got out that the Brooklyn leader was sick in bed. She crunched her hair under the hat and pulled it down atop her head. "Well, bawlin about it aint gunna get us anywhere. We'se need tah think how we'se can get three more dollars by Friday night."  
  
"Why Friday night?"  
  
Honey looked down at her shoes and then returned her gaze to Jack. Her eyes were full of tears. "He aint gunna make it, Jacky. I'se was at me mother's side when she was dyin and she didn't even look as bad as Spot does now. Every morning when I wake up, I'se run tah his bedside worriedly, expectin him tah be gone. Any day now, we'se is gunna lose him if we don't get that doctor."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Flame only had three more papers to sell when he saw who he though to be Spot Conlon sitting on a crate with a blank expression on his face.  
  
"Uh, Spot? Youse okay?"  
  
Honey looked up at the familiar voice and instantly wiped the tearstains from her face as she jumped up to spit-shake with the Bronx leader. "Yea, I'se jist thinkin about some things."  
  
"Were ya cryin? Not tah sound harsh or anything, I knows youse in touch wid yer sensitive side, but ya might not wanna do stuff like that in public. Yer rep is already crumblin' as we know it."  
  
Honey nodded. "It's just that I'se been havin financial problems lately."  
  
Flame laughed and patted Spot on the back. "Yea, who hasn't been havin financial problems?"  
  
"But this is serious! My.uh, sistah is really sick and needs tah see a doctor. So Jack and I collected some money from our newsies tah pay fer one. Then, some scab goes and steals Manhattan's money!"  
  
"Oh, that's cold," Flame replied. "Me boys are more broke than youse can imagine. We'se aint gots no money tah spare. Ya know that if we did, we'se would give it tah yer sistah in a heartbeat. By the way, I didn't know ya had a sistah."  
  
Honey smiled. "Yah, I'se always talkin to her about youse. She really wants tah meet ya; I think she may have a crush."  
  
Flame laughed again. "I'se flattered. If she's anything like yer sorry behind, I'd kill myself. New Yawk has enough self-absorbed brats on the streets, no offense. But on a more serious note, ya do remember that tomorrow is the poker game at my place? Maybe luck will be wid ya and youse can win some money fer the goil."  
  
"Oh gosh!" Honey exclaimed. "I'se almost forgot about that! Queens is gunna be there too, right? They's always got some mad cash! I'se pretty shoah me and Jacky can take home some of it!" She started giggling as if she had gone mad. "This is great! All me problems are solved. Thanks so much, Flame! Youse a life saver!" She threw her arms around the boy's neck and squeezed him tight before skipping off towards Brooklyn, singing a lively tune all the while.  
  
Flame ran his fingers through his hair and took countless deep breaths to relax himself. Had Spot Conlon just given him a hug? "That bum has gots some serious problems." He swore the next time the Brooklyn leader tried something like that, he would have to give Spot a shiner.  
  
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	4. Ya Win Some, Ya Lose Some

DISCLAIMER: The Newsies do not belong to me save for Honey and Flame. So puh-lease don't sue me because you won't get very much. Muah ha ha!  
  
A.N. Thanks to all those who have reviewed this story so far! Stella Puro- Sangue, lncdaydreamer, Twig, kimimay85, and baby309blue, you guys ROCK my SOCKS!  
  
Switching Spots  
  
  
  
Honey slapped her hand against the table in protest. "Jack, where are ya going? We'se aint done yet! Youse still gots other stuff tah teach me!" She combed her hair behind her ears and formed her lips into a pout.  
  
"We'se played thoity-two games of pokah!" Jack exclaimed. "If youse don't understand it by now, ya hopeless."  
  
The girl jumped to her feet and blocked Jack from walking any farther. Staring him straight in the eyes, and having to crane back her neck to do so, she almost had the temperamental fighting look her brother was renowned for. "Practice makes poifect! I'se going tah that pokah game tonight wid me bruddah's life on the line and I'se gunna do me best tah master the game so that I can save him! If he doesn't mean enough tah youse fer ya tah offer yer help, then tell me right now, 'cause I'se knows plenty of people who won't mind giving me a few lessons."  
  
Jack knew arguing would only prove in vain. Honey had used guilt against him; how could he refuse to teach her poker when she threw in Spot's fight with dying into the equation? He sighed and sat back down at the table, motioning for her to do the same. "How is Spot, by the way?"  
  
She frowned at the inquiry and tried to swallow down the knot in her throat that would otherwise cause tears to fall from her eyes. "His fever's breaking 100. I'se so worried that I'se gunna wake up and rush into his room only tah find him gone. Sometimes I'se have nightmares about losing him. Jack, he's the only one I'se gots!" She buried her face in her hands and let all of the worry and sorrow flood out of her without care. She loved Spot so incredibly much; he simply could not abandon her!  
  
"Don't worry, goil," Jack said as he scooted his chair over to her and held her in his arms. "We'se gunna figure out a way tah help him."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Honey and Jack walked into the Queens lodging house with infamous gambler Racetrack Higgins at their side. If fortune was with them this night, they would win enough money between the three of them to afford a doctor's visit for Spot. Race looked at his two friends and raised his eyebrows. "Well, this is it. Wish me luck, huh?" He left them and approached a Craps table where he shook hands with the boys already playing and waited for the next round.  
  
Meanwhile, Jack was scanning the room for poker tables that seemed easy enough to conquer. There was a beginner table towards the back of the room at which the novices sat, the oldest being only fourteen years of age, but the Manhattan leader had his dignity and he did not want to seem as if he was robbing money of the lesser gamblers.  
  
That is when he saw Flame in a heated match against the Bronx's best player. The tension they suffered perforated the atmosphere and beads of sweat could be seen on the back of their hands. They were nervous, that much was apparent. Money was not the only thing they would be losing tonight, their pride drained away with the cash as well. Jack put a hand to Honey's back and pointed towards the game.  
  
"He's gunna want tah play against youse. Ya ready?"  
  
Her eyes were glazed over and seemed to be staring at some unseen object. "Can't ya go foist? Ya know, save the best fer last?"  
  
Jack laughed sarcastically and led the way towards the card duel that had drawn so much attention within five minutes. At least twenty newsies were grouped around the two leaders, waiting out the results, anxious to know who would win.  
  
"Youse wanna go any higher?" Flame asked, rubbing the surface of a coin between two of his fingers.  
  
The Bronx leader shook his head and laid out his cards onto the table with much confidence. "Three of a kind, what do youse gots?"  
  
Flame grinned and showed the entire crowd his cards before laying them on the table. All of one suit, he had a 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6. "Straight flush," he replied, collecting his winnings from the center of the table. Queens roared into triumphant applause and congratulated their leader on his victory. "Heya, Jack! Sit down and represent Manhattan! I didn't even see youse heah. Ya just come in?"  
  
"Yea," Jack said nervously. After that superior example of poker mastery, he was not sure he could help Spot after all. But he would try nonetheless. "I'se gunna save us the waiting, and bid all me money right now. I'se gots three dollahs heah, that too much fer yer blood?" The crowd of newsies that formed a circle around the boys whistled at the large amount of money. Jack bathed in the recognition, even though he had borrowed the money from David's father.  
  
Flame took a long drag on a cigarette. "Three dollahs, huh? How bout we'se go all the way tah five, Jacky-boy?"  
  
"Three is all I'se going, alright?" Honey poked an elbow into his back and he turned around to address her. "What?" He hissed.  
  
"Go fer it! It's all or nuthin fer us! Heah's the extra two youse needs." She reached into the pockets of her pants and fished out enough money to make up for Jack's shortcoming.  
  
"Youse crazy? Five is too much, I aint gunna risk Spot's life 'cause youse is feeling lucky!" He remembered to keep his voice down into a nearly inaudible whisper, especially now that some of the boys were giving the friends unusual looks.  
  
Flame laughed. "Jack, take Brooklyn's advice and go all the way. It's just a game, kid. We'se all in good fellowship heah, we aint gunna run ya outta town when ya lose."  
  
Jack turned back around, determined to prove that he was quite capable of winning the match if he put his mind to it. "Alright, have it your way. I just didn't want youse to lose so much money. Deal." The cards were dealt, five to each boy, and each boy excitedly flipped over their hands to see if luck would be their shining aura this time.  
  
"Youse shoah ya don't wanna raise the stakes, Jack?"  
  
Jack wished he could lower the stakes! His only chance right now was to trade in all five of his cards for a new hand. "Nah, I think I'll take four." As said before, he had his dignity. Giving in all five would make him appear not in control.  
  
"I only want two," Flame told the dealer with a self-assured smile. "I only need two." The cards were redistributed and Honey instantly saw Jack's failure by the sudden sadness in his grey eyes.  
  
"One pair," the Manhattan leader muttered under his breath, his eyes refusing to meet anyone else's.  
  
"It's alright, kid," Flame laughed. "Ya win some, ya lose some." He placed his cards one by one on the table to reveal the Full House he had won by. "Who's next? Heya! Spot Conlon, why don't youse have a seat and show these bums how pokah is really played."  
  
Honey sighed. She only had so much to wager with. She collapsed into the chair opposite Flame and looked into his intense, brown eyes. He was filled with so much buoyancy and she found that utterly admirable. If he were not her current opponent, she would occupy her mind with the sole task of studying him at such times.  
  
Flame motioned to one of his newsies to deal the cards and when five had been given to each of the two players, the game commenced. Jack had untied his bandana from around his neck and now held it tightly between his hands in agitation. They should have never thrown away their money like this, he kept telling himself. They were only digging deeper graves for themselves and a literal one for Spot by continuing with their gambles.  
  
Race came up beside him then, and frowned. "I'se lost it all," he said, feeling at once at fault for everything. "What are we'se gunna do now?"  
  
Jack quieted him and pointed to Flame and Honey. Race's jaw dropped open in surprise. He could not believe Jack was letting her take the final blow in their attempts to raise money for Spot. Not to directly insult her, in the short time he had known her he thought she was great, but she was still a student at poker!  
  
"I'll take three," Honey said, though her tone of voice conveyed uncertainty.  
  
Flame narrowed his eyes at the Brooklyn leader and noticed that Spot's fingernails were awfully long for a guy's. Raising his gaze to Spot's face, he could not help but notice something different once again, something that was just not right. His face seemed much more...he was afraid to even think it, but the truth was that Spot's face had a femininity about it. He shook his head and focused his attention to his cards. He asked the dealer for three cards as well, and had to bite his lip to keep from smiling at his new hand. "So Brooklyn, think youse coming out richer tonight?"  
  
Honey could only pity the boy as she showed him her cards. She had a straight, the cards of different suits in this case. She looked back at Jack, whose face had lightened up by her achievement and she laughed. "It was a good game," she commented to Flame who looked at her in disbelief. But as she leaned forward to collect her money, he stopped her.  
  
"Not so fast, Conlon. I'se gots me..." he flipped over his cards, "a flush." Queens shouted happily at their leader's win.  
  
"No, that can't happen," Honey said softly. It was not supposed to end this way! She was supposed to win loads of money to bring back to Spot so that he could better in health. She looked around her, her breath quickening. Amidst the applauses and exclamations of joy, she saw Race and Jack's disappointed faces, but also their grief. "Wait, I'se wants tah play another game!"  
  
Flame laughed. "C'mon, Conlon. There's others in line waiting tah get their money taken away from them. Be a good sport and go tah another table."  
  
"NO!" Even she was shocked by the volume of the outburst. Then again, it was a typical demand Spot would utter, perhaps she was finally resembling him. "I want tah play another game wid youse. No one else heah is woithy of me money. Now, are ya gunna woik wid me heah or what?" She glared at him, her blue eyes burning like roasted berries.  
  
Flame held up his hands in surrender. "Shoah, we'se can always accommodate another victory. Sit down, Spotty." The poker routine was continued, and it was time for the wages to be made. "I'se only gunna raise ya up tah one price, Conlon, take it or leave it. Ten dollahs!" The only sounds were the gasps that the surrounding newsies intook.  
  
Honey froze, and it seemed as if time froze with her. She only had a dollar left in her pocket! How was she going to finagle her way out of this mishap? As if answering her question, she felt the cold metal around her neck for the first time that night. Spot's signature key. It was the charm of a long silver chain he had received as a birthday present from their mother. It alone was worth well over fifteen dollars. She unlatched it and stared at its slender shape in her hands. She was heartbroken to have to succumb to these odds. "Flame, youse can take this tah any jewelry dealer and they's will give ya so much money fer it youse won't know what tah do wid it."  
  
"Shoah, shoah," Flame said with a roll of his eyes. "Why don't ya throw in that stupid cane of yers too? Ya ready tah lose or what?"  
  
Honey took a deep breath. This was it. Her future depended on this one moment. "I'll take two cards." She received the new pair and Jack thought he almost saw her wince at them.  
  
"As for me, I'se gunna have tah take the same amount as shorty over there." There was light laughter as Flame accepted his new cards. He rearranged them in his hand and nodded when they met his approval. Then with that cocky smile of his, he looked at Spot. "Well, show us what Brooklyn is made of, kid."  
  
"If youse say so," Honey sighed. She gave Jack and Race an apologetic look and let her cards fall back onto the table. "Four of a kind, Flame."  
  
Flame rolled his head along his neck to relieve the stress that had built up on his shoulders. He hated having a conscious. He knew Spot's sister was sick in bed, suffering from some illness only curable through the proper administration of a doctor. He knew the Brooklyn leader was afraid of losing his only relative, so much that he had put his cherished chain and key on the line. Most of all, he knew that Spot had always been there for him when he had needed his help. Always. Flame glanced down at his Royal Flush-the highest possible hand in poker-and groaned. "Congratulations, Conlon. Youse finally learned how tah win."  
  
Honey gasped and covered her gaping mouth with two hands. "Are youse serious?!"  
  
Flame nodded and shuffled his cards into the deck before any newsies got suspicious. Pushing the money towards Spot, he laughed. "Like I said, ya win some, ya lose some."  
  
"Oh my god! I can't believe this!" She was so taken aback by her triumph that she had forgotten, for the hundredth but last time, who she was impersonating. Lost in her surprise, she leaned across the table, seized Flame's face in her hands, and kissed the boy hard and long.  
  
The Queens leader shoved Spot away and wiped his mouth with a sleeve. "Get outta heah, ya FREAK!"  
  
Honey burst out laughing, swept all the money into her pockets, and ran out of the lodging house with an elated Jack and Race in tow. It was the most memorable poker game in their lives up to date.  
  
* * * * *  
  
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	5. Jack's Faith

DISCLAIMER: The Newsies do not belong to me save for Honey and Flame. So puh-lease don't sue me because you won't get very much. Muah ha ha!  
  
A.N. CooKieS to all my reviewers!! Thanks everybody for those REVIEWS! I Love 'em! Keep them rolling in! Hope ya'll enjoy this chappie!  
  
Switching Spots  
  
  
  
Within the following week, newsies from Staten Island had finally launched an attack against the borough of Brooklyn, taking the lodging house by sudden siege with not only their fists, but also other weapons that caused a number of fatalities. The brawl had carried on for nearly two hours, causing much bloodshed upon the already dirty streets of New York, until a squad of police officers had finally arrived at the scene to break up the youths and fine them for their wrongdoings. In total, there had been over twenty-six boys who suffered fractured bones of some sort, and unfortunately, four newsies between the ages of fifteen and eighteen had lost their lives during the mini war.  
  
It was indeed a tragic day in the history of newsies everywhere and there was much mourning between every borough as they commemorated the lives of those who had fallen, never to again rise up. Although Brooklyn was greatly outnumbered by the boys from Staten Island, Manhattan and Queens had come to their rescue just in time, making the fight for power a fierce one between the worse of rivals. Even so, Brooklyn and its allies had come out triumphant in the end.  
  
And all the while, leader Spot Conlon had been dozing off in a hospital bed, oblivious to the storm that was raging against his newsies. Even if he wished to, there was nothing he could do to change the tides of fortune, for after he had seen the blurry image of a doctor administer some sort of vaccination into his veins, his eyes rolled back into his head and he had drifted off into the deepest slumber he had ever known as of yet.  
  
Honey sat at his bedside the whole while, squeezing his hand as his body managed to fight the illness it had contracted with no immediate effect. Jack stood behind her, supportive, as he had always been, with a hand upon her shoulder.  
  
"Ya need some sleep," he told her softly. "It's been four days already and I'se haven't seen youse get so much as a short nap."  
  
"But what if he wakes up while I'se busy gettin rest? What if he intakes his last breath and I'se aint there tah heah him or be wid him?"  
  
Jack kneeled down so that the girl was taller than him. "Listen, youse gots tah stop talkin like that. If ya don't believe Spot's gunna pull through, why are ya waitin fer him tah do so?" He combed his fingers through her hair and smiled. She had a beautiful inner spirit that made him want to continue pursuing life, and it was an odd feeling he had never received from any other girl. It was as if she was put into his life to be a wonderful influence upon him. "Ya gotta have faith, sweety." The words did not feel right coming from his mouth; he was ever doubting any matter that crossed his path and faith was something he never relied on.  
  
Just then, a man in a white coat entered the room, interrupting the two friends' conversation. "Excuse me, could you both please stand outside while I check up on the young man?"  
  
Honey and Jack arose and left Spot to the learned hands of the doctor. As they stood in the hallway, a mischievous grin came upon the Manhattan leader's lips. "It's still going around how youse kissed the hell outta Flame at that pokah game."  
  
"Oh my god!" Honey's cheeks turned a deep crimson and she buried her face in her hands in sheer embarrassment. "Can't people keep their mouths shut?"  
  
"It's not sumthin Spot would do, and so it spread real fast." His heart lightened when she at least offered him a short laugh. "So, youse interested in Flame or sumthin?"  
  
The girl fixed Spot's hat over her blonde locks and shrugged. "After what I did, I don't think he wants anything tah do wid the Conlon family!"  
  
"Ah, ya never know." He would have said more but the doctor came out into the hall and stood before them with a sullen face. "What's da mattah!?"  
  
"I regret to inform you that your friend has just slipped into a deep coma."  
  
Honey shrieked with disbelief. "No! No! Youse gotta be mistaken! He can't fall into a coma! No, he's okay! Please check him again!" Crying out uncontrollably, she ran for the door to Spot's room but was held back when Jack wrapped his arms around her waist and kept her still.  
  
"I am sorry," the doctor went out with sympathetic eyes. "We will have our staff on alert all hours of the night while he sleeps, but we cannot guarantee any miracles. All we can do now is pray."  
  
"No!" Honey was sobbing incoherently onto Jack's vest, clutching its ends with trembling fingers. "There has to be a mistake!"  
  
But there was no mistake at all. Spot's life could only be determined by the hands of fate now.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Heya Flame, what is youse doing heah in Manhattan?" Race took the cigar out of his mouth to better articulate his words and spit shook with the Queens leader.  
  
Flame looked around the lodging house. "I'se lookin fer Jack, is he anywhere around? I wanted tah know how Spot's sistah is holdin up."  
  
"Then why didn't youse go tah Spot tah find out?" Blink slyly asked as he descended the staircase.  
  
"Did ya really have tah ask that, Cyclops?" Blink smacked the leader's arm and Flame burst out laughing. "Ah, Blink, ya knows I'se just messin wid youse. At the moment, I'se aint on speakin terms wid his high and mighty, as I'se shoah ya all already know."  
  
Mush looked confused. "What d'ya mean?"  
  
Blink nudged the innocent boy and winked. "Ol' Spotty made a move on Flame heah."  
  
"What?! I didn't know Spot...was, uh..."  
  
Flame rolled his eyes. "Listen, I'se guessin the kid's been havin a hard time wid his sistah being sick and all. Either that or he's been chugging down a daily pack of beer."  
  
"I didn't know Spot had a sistah," Mush said as he brought a deck of cards from his pocket.  
  
"Shaddup!" Race hissed as he elbowed him in the ribs.  
  
Flame arched an eyebrow. "Right, well anyways, tell Jacky that I'se was heah tah see him. See ya!"  
  
* * * * *  
  
Jack sat on the roof of the Brooklyn Lodging House and gazed up at the heavenly bodies of stars lighting the skies above him. Since Brooklyn currently lacked a leader, he had taken up the role for now, leaving Manhattan under the orders of Race and Blink, though he did not know how wise a decision that was. Those two caused so much trouble within a day's time, he was surprised they had not stayed a night in the Refuge yet with all the mayhem they were known to create.  
  
One particular star caught the would-be cowboy's attention and he studied it from his perch, marveling at its beauty and grace. "I'se doesn't know whether this is a wish or a prayer, I'se don't remember the last time either one came from me mouth! But I'se like tah think sumthin's gotta be up there watchin over us, and it'd be nice if that sumthin's listening tah me right now. Me best friend Spot's in a coma, the kid got pneumonia, and the mere fact showers so much guilt on me I feel as if I should be the one in that hospital bed instead of him. I mean, if we hadn't been arguing that night, I wouldn't have pushed him into the freezing river by the docks....and I was the one that started the fight. Damn, I'se can't ever remember what we'se were arguing over.  
  
"But I'se sorry fer making a big deal outta nothing. And I'se sorry fer having lost me faith in miracles these days, but I'se hoping youse could woik this out fer me either way. If ya could just make him better, even if it's just so that his sistah would be all right, I wouldn't let a day pass without thankin youse. So....please?"  
  
* * * * *  
  
Half a week later, Honey was sharing a seat with Jack in Spot's hospital room as she began to fall asleep on the Manhattan leader's shoulder. Her hand, however, was still laced in that of her brother's and she was still conscious of the feel of his cold skin. Jack, on the other hand, was practically snoring and had no concept of where he was or of what time it was.  
  
Honey yawned and snuggled closer into Jack. No, youse gots tah stay awake, she told herself. Ya can't leave him alone like this! He could need your help any moment! Her eyes snapped open and she stared at her twin sibling unmoving where he lay. "Spot, can youse heah me? Please, Spot, come back tah us. We'se needs ya. We'se love ya!"  
  
She frowned when she received no response. Was this a lost cause? Was all her devotion to him in vain? She had lost record of how long it had been now, and she was beginning to tire from it all. Hating to admit that her creed was dwindling, the girl sat straight up and hummed the melody of a lullaby her mother used to sing to Spot and her when they were younger. Its words were so soothing that they comforted her almost instantly.  
  
"Oh hush, my pretty baby, sleeping in the arms of love..." She choked on the last word and closed her eyes to keep tears from falling. His life was ending, she could feel it. His breathing was steadily slowing down and his body shuddered with pain. Honey refused to be let down. "Oh hush, my pretty baby," she sang louder with eyes still closed "sleeping in the arms of love..." His fingers twitched in her own; she sobbed. He could not leave her!  
  
"...while your mother sings this lullaby, a lullaby from above..." The voice was so soft, Honey had not even heard it at first. She risked a look at Spot, afraid that her delusions had gotten the best of her. Could it be? Was it possible? SPOT!!!" She screamed in immeasurable excitement and passion. "OH GOD, Youse is ALIVE!!!" She wrapped her arms around his neck and nearly choked the boy in all her exhilaration. "SPOT, I can't believe this! Youse is alive!!!" She basically repeated the same thing for at least two more minutes, during which Jack came to wake with a start and fell off his chair.  
  
However, when he had climbed to his feet and saw a jubilant sister embracing her once nearly deceased brother, he could not help but laugh. Before exchanging any words with his best friend, he stuck his head out the window, and found that one star he had directed his priceless requests to the other night.  
  
"Thanks," was all he could muster to say, for it was not until now that he finally believed in miracles.  
  
* * * * *  
  
OnE mOrE cHaPtEr To CoMe! REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVIEEEEEEEEEEW, and it might be updated sooner! : ) REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! Love ya all! 


	6. Youse Looks Awfully Familiar

DISCLAIMER: The Newsies do not belong to me save for Honey and Flame. So puh-lease don't sue me because you won't get very much. Muah ha ha!  
  
A.N. YaaaY!!! It's finally finished!!! A great big THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed this story! I really LOVE all of your REVIEWS! They make me soooo HAPPY and I appreciate them all!!! Here's shout outs to kimimay85, baby309blue, Twig, lncdaydreamer, Stella Puro-Sangue, Fastdancr, Ylani Stepka, sexydaddymagnet69, CBgirly2002, Duchess, Kaylee, Randomness, Crunch, and Ashley!!! Thanks Goils!!  
  
Switching Spots  
  
Two weeks later, Jack and Honey were standing outside the Brooklyn Lodging House, waiting for Spot to meet them for lunch at Tibby's.  
  
"It's so nice tah be a goil again," Honey laughed as she smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt. No longer had she need to wear a hat, or tuck her thick blonde locks under it. She actually felt free in a sort of way, no longer needing to live up to someone else's expectations. Not to say she despised being her brother, it was simply more difficult to impersonate the Brooklyn leader than she had originally thought. He had an air and way about him that she believed no one else would ever be able to perfectly reproduce.  
  
Jack laughed with her and draped his arm about her shoulders. "So what is youse gunna do your foist day of being a goil again?"  
  
"I was thinking of wearing ribbons in me hair," she giggled. "But that may be overdoing it." She rested her head onto Jack's chest and sighed. She thought it would just be best to be herself. Afterall, today she would finally be introduced to all the Manhattan newsies and she wanted to make a good impression.  
  
"Heya, look! Flame's coming this way!"  
  
At first, Honey thought her friend was merely kidding, but upon looking in the direction he pointed, she gasped and hid behind him. "Oh my god, oh my God! He's going to see me!"  
  
"Well, considering he's gots eyes, I would hope he sees ya, sweety." Jack grabbed her arm and gently pulled her before him. "Youse is only making things woise. Just act normal, all right?" Before Honey could object, Flame was already approaching them.  
  
"Heya Jacky, how's life treatin youse these days?" The two leaders spit-shook and then Flame took notice of Honey. He smirked at her and took her hand to kiss its back. "Youse looks awfully familiar. Ya new around heah?"  
  
"Flame, this is Spot's twin sistah, Honey."  
  
"Yea, I figured as much. They's look too much alike." He was glad that girl had finally recuperated from her illness. She looked nothing like someone who had just suffered from pneumonia. Addressing her, he said, "I'se just meant that I feel as if I'se knows youse from somewhere else..."  
  
Honey shrugged and giggled. "I may have been tah Queens before I became a newsie."  
  
"How'd ya know I was from Queens?"  
  
Seeing the girl's mistake, Jack intruded into the conversation before she would have to come up with a reason. "Flame, youse is one of the most popular leadahs in New Yawk! Ya think a new kid wouldn't heah about youse within their foist day of sellin?"  
  
"Oh." Flame grinned at the comment and focused his attention back on Honey. He found her to be pretty cute, with a special glow on her face that could brighten the worse of moods. Nevertheless, he could not rid himself of the feeling that he had known her once before. He studied her eyes and the figure of her appearance, knowing he was familiar with it, but unable to reach a name. Then it almost hit him, and as the name was forming in the recesses of his mind, his train of thoughts was interrupted when Honey spoke.  
  
"Are youse okay?" she asked worriedly.  
  
"Shoah, shoah," he said. He let the thought pass. Though it bothered him that he could not solve this riddle, he would not let it get in the way of socializing. "So are ya going tah Medda's party tonight?"  
  
Honey blushed at the unexpected question and turned her face away. "Uhm, I don't know. I'se really aint got a reason tah go. I mean, I aint got a date or anything..."  
  
"Well, that shouldn't be a problem, cause if youse is up tah it, I'll be more than happy tah escort youse." The sparkle in his eyes was irresistible and made Honey breathless, so that she could only nod at his suggestion. "Great! I'll come fer youse around six? Can't wait tah see ya, doll." He kissed her hand again.  
  
It was all she could do to keep from passing out. She could barely believe this was happening! It was as if life was finally taking a turn for the best for her. Not only was she reunited with her brother who had recently regained his full health, now the one guy she had fallen head over heels for was asking her out! She had a feeling things were going to work out great between her and Flame too.  
  
Yet again, there was that look of recognition on his face, as if he were trying to recover a lost memory. She shifted uncomfortably and wished he would stop. What if he found out about her secret? What would he think then? Would he be just as willing to become acquainted with her? And then as luck would have it, Flame was only interrupted for the second time.  
  
"Heya Flame, what is youse doing heah?"  
  
Flame jumped at the sound of Spot Conlon's voice and stood a reasonable distance away from his younger friend with a watchful look. If the Brooklyn leader was about to plummet into his paranoid subconscious, Flame would be prepared. "I came by tah make shoah yer side of New Yawk was safe from the Staten Island scabs."  
  
"Oh, thanks. I'se hoid they's were still roaming around thinking they's can beat us." He stepped forward, and arched an eyebrow when Flame stepped back. "What's the mattah?"  
  
Flame glanced at Honey and Jack, and then back at Spot. He could not trust the latter; he might just start doing something unpredictable again. "Uh, I'se gunna go. See ya all latah!" And with that, he ran off.  
  
Spot scratched his head. "What the hell is wrong wid him? Every time I sees him and I try tah start a conversation, he just gives me this terrified look and leaves as fast as he can."  
  
Jack looked away and Honey stared at her shoes.  
  
"What?" Spot narrowed his eyes. "Either of youse knows why?"  
  
Jack cleared his throat. "Let's just say, Honey made a couple of 'friends' while she was busy being youse."  
  
Both he and Honey burst out laughing, leaving Spot more confused than he had been before. "What's that supposed tah mean!?"  
  
Jack mumbled something under his breath, and readily grabbed Honey's hand for their dramatic dash away from Spot.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Ah, ya know, she just kissed Flame is all." The two bolted down the streets in an instant, lost in their reckless laughter.  
  
Spot's jaw dropped open. "WHAT!?!?!?!?!?" And not a second passed before he had taken off behind them.  
  
  
  
* * * * the end* * * * * 


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